Star Trek: Slider Ep 1 A New Journey
by Dustin Manuel
Summary: The USS Slider, Starfleet's new attempt at a long range strike vessel, finds itself in the middle of a deadly conflict.


**Star Trek: Slider**

**A New Journey**

**Prologue**

"Tactical, report!" captain Davis shouted.

"Shields offline, main power down," the officer replied, "Enemy vessel is still undamaged."

"Engineering," Davis said as his ship rattled from a few photon torpedo impacts, "What is the status of the quantum wave drive?"

"It's installed," the engineer said, "But we haven't properly adjusted our power transfer system. It'll cause severe damage if we activate it."

"We don't have a choice," Davis said as his vessel rocked from an explosion, "Maximum power to the drive."

Davis studied the enemy vessel on the screen. It was coming about, preparing to make a third pass, which Davis was sure that his ship wouldn't survive. The raid on the enemy scout vessel had gone well, but Davis hadn't counted on their flagship showing up so quickly. Still, they'd managed to recover valuable pieces of technology from the smaller ship that now lay lifeless in space. "Drive activation in thirty seconds," the engineer said.

"Use what phaser reserves we have left," Davis said, bracing himself for the next barrage from the enemy vessel, "Then go ninety degrees to port and engage impulse engines at maximum speed."

Davis could see the beams lance out from his ship, striking the enemy's shields and failing to penetrate. However, Davis refused to let his ship go down with energy still in the weapons banks. Due to the damage, Davis felt his ship turn under him. The inertial dampers were fairly low priority while the ship remained at sublight speeds. As he was pushed into the back of his seat from acceleration, the engineer shouted the words Davis wanted to hear. "Drive is activating now. What is our destination?"

"Set for quantum transfer, random target," Davis said, "And pray they can't follow us."

"All hands," Davis said, punching the shipwide button on his chair, "This is Captain Davis. Brace for damage across all sections. Communications may go down, so everyone is ordered to begin repairs in their section in exactly two minutes. Focus on power, life support, and weapons."

The screen flared white, signaling that the ship was off into the unknown.

**Chapter 1**

_Captain's Log, stardate 55973.4. The first week aboard my new command, the USS Slider, has been uneventful. Besides running drills, there hasn't been any activity aboard. The ship, a new design, is currently under review, so Starfleet has decided to make a second experiment of my ship, which the newly assigned Starfleet crew is taking with mixed feelings._

_We are about to rendezvous with the USS Enterprise, recently out of the repair dock from damage taken in a fierce battle with the Reman warbard Scimitar. Aboard the Enterprise are several civilian specialists who will fill crew positions on the Slider. Chief Engineer Jared Peron is a promising, young scientist. He holds a master's degree in temporal mechanics from the Manheim Center and a double-bachelor's in starship design and warp theory from the Daystrom Institute of Technology._

_Ops officer Caleb Bryant is a graduate of the Vulcan Science Academy. While not fully Vulcan, I've been told he still acts like one. Communication and shuttle operations officer Aaron Steele coordinates a dilithium mining operation that his father owns. He gained attention through maintaining an undefeated record in a series of shuttle races and simulated dogfights. Lastly, Doctor Tagaris, our chief medical officer, is the most unusual member of the crew. I requested her for the position based on a recommendation and a rather interesting paper she wrote. I think we all will have a positive experience learning about each others' cultures, both her native Romulan and the mix of Federation citizens aboard._

_The Starfleet crew aboard the Slider is somewhat apprehensive about working with nearly untrained civilians. Even I am somewhat concerned as to how they will adapt to Starfleet life, but am also looking forward to their expertise. Engineer Peron is especially anticipated, since he is one of the few people alive who truly understands the Slider's unique high-speed warp engine. The design involves two warp cores working at half capacity to decrease workload and—_

The door chime interrupted Captain Justin Mills from his log entry. "Computer," he said, "End recording and save to ship's log."

Answering the door, he was greeted by Commander Loren Walker, his first officer aboard the Slider. "We're approaching the rendezvous coordinates, captain," she said.

"Thank you for getting me," Mills replied, "Please have the transporter room stand by to receive Captain Picard. I'll be on the bridge."

Walker nodded and headed for the transporter room while Mills started down the corridor. While significantly more narrow than those he remembered from his childhood aboard the Enterprise, he knew that the accommodations were more comfortable than on a small science vessel. As he walked, Mills fingered the four rank pips on his collar. He was the youngest captain on record, and he still felt less than comfortable about that. At only 23, he was fresh out of the academy like the rest of the Slider's Starfleet crew. This was also part of the crewing experiment, to see how well a young and inexperienced crew would perform. Mills had read the premise of the experiment, which had been conceived to help prepare the Federation for another war, a time when trained officers were at a premium.

Stepping onto the bridge, Mills was reminded of another unique feature of the Slider. The bridge was located on deck 4, near the middle of the ship's habitat section. Since the captain's quarters were only 40 meters away on the same deck, getting to the bridge took a matter of seconds.

"Captain on the bridge!" Lieutenant Ryan Gabriel, the ship's tactical officer, said as he vacated the captain's chair.

"Report," Mills said, taking his chair.

Out of habit, Mills checked his short brown hair. Before entering the academy, he'd worn a longer hairstyle, but now kept it too short for it to ever really be out of place.

"Enterprise is on long range sensors, captain," Gabriel said, checking his tactical board.

The blond officer ran his hands over his console with practiced ease. Mills had grown up with Gabriel and Lt. Chris Neal, the pilot, so he knew exactly what they were capable of.

"Mr. Neal," Mills said, "Prepare to drop out of warp. Make our position two hundred meters off the Enterprise's starboard."

The Slider dropped out, with a slight shudder in the deckplates. Mills made a mental note to have Peron look at it as soon as he was aboard. "There was a slight timing error between the shutdown of the two warp drives," Neal said, almost reading Mills' mind, "Ensign Horton is taking a look at the problem now."

"Make sure it gets looked at." Mills said, "A more serious timing error and we'd rip the ship apart."

"I'll attend to it personally," Neal said.

"Good," Mills added, knowing his pilot well enough to be confident that the problem would be handled before the Slider next jumped to warp.

"Enterprise is hailing," Gabriel said.

"On screen," Mills ordered

A bridge nearly identical to the Slider's appeared, with a new face in the captain's chair. He wore the colors of security or engineering, and Mills guessed by his rank of lieutenant commander that he was the tactical officer, since LaForge was still the Enterprise's engineer. "Greetings Enterprise," Mills said, "Is Captain Picard ready for transport?"

"Yes he is," the man replied, "I have been instructed to inform you that he is bringing another guest aboard with him."

"Do you know the nature of this guest?" Mills asked, puzzled at the sudden change of plans.

"I do not," he said said, although Mills could see the tactical officer suddenly avoid looking at the viewscreen.

"Have them beam over. Commander Walker will escort them to my office where I will meet them."

"Affirmative," he replied, nodding to the ops officer on his bridge, "Enterprise out."

Decan Howard stood on the transporter pad of the Enterprise, a damned sight less than happy. "Slider confirms ready for transport," LaForge said, operating the transporter panel himself since Captain Picard was one of the subjects of transport.

"Very well," Picard said, "Energize."

Howard felt the familiar tingle of transport, and found himself in a transporter room that was definitely smaller than the one he'd just left. It was also considerably more spartan, containing fewer curves and more metallic surfaces. The most notable difference, however, was the weapon lockers. This ship, while having a crew one-tenth the size of the Enterprise, contained the same number of weapon lockers, enough for each crew member to obtain a phaser, and rifles for half. "Permission to come aboard?" Picard asked the rather attractive female commander who was greeting them.

"Permission granted," she replied, "Captain Mills will meet you in his office."

Howard, a young boy of fifteen, had more experience with women than some men twice his age. He wondered if this commander would have any interest in him. "This is Decan Howard, granted civilian observer status," Picard said, putting a fatherly hand on Howard's shoulder as they exited the transporter room, "His father is my tactical officer, and I am requesting that he stay aboard your vessel for awhile."

"Has this been discussed with Captain Mills?"

"Not yet," Picard said, "We'll get the matter sorted out soon."

Walker, her face still managing to show no emotion, nodded and pointed down the corridor. "Fourth door on the right," she said, "He's expecting you.'

Mills had the replicator produce a third wine glass for his table, preparing for the guest that Picard was bringing. He placed two bottles of wine on the table, wanting Picard to make the final choice. The Robert Mondovi merlot was one of his favorites, but he also had pulled out a French Louis Max burgundy, knowing that Picard would likely prefer a French wine. He then picked up his trumpet, an antique he'd found at a small shop in San Francisco, and placed it in its case. He'd been practicing earlier, but wanted his quarters to appear tidy when Picard showed up. No sooner than he'd finished closing the case, his door chimed. "Come," Mills said.

Picard entered, followed by a teenager that Mills had never met. The boy's reddish hair tugged at the captain's memory. "Captain Mills," Picard said, indicating the teen, "This is Decan Howard, the son of my new tactical officer, Lieutenant Commander Ben Howard."

"Pleased to meet you," Mills said to the boy, extending a hand though still confused about young man's presence.

Howard didn't say anything, but simply folded his arms across his chest. "He doesn't want to be here," Picard said, "Could you have someone come take him elsewhere, so we can discuss the situation?"

"Mr. Howard," Mills said, addressing the teen, "If you go into the corridor, place your hand on the computer panel, and ask, it will direct you around the ship. I'd recommend the mess hall, if you'd like something to eat. Feel free to socialize with the crew."

As soon as the boy departed, Picard spoke. "I'd recommend you keep an eye on him," Picard said, "He has a habit of getting into places where he should not be."

"Why is he here?" Mills asked.

Picard pulled out a padd and handed it to Mills. "The Enterprise has been assigned to rendezvous with the Sovereign on the other side of Romulan space to join a reconnaissance task force. We'll be investigating some strange signals the Romulans have received. Beyond that, I am not permitted to say. As this mission is likely to be rather dangerous, Commander Howard and I would like Decan to stay aboard another vessel."

"So you want me to babysit a child?" Mills asked, keeping his annoyance in check.

"I'm asking it as a favor," Picard replied, "I feared for you and the rest of the children on the Enterprise every time we entered battle, and I don't want to put any more at risk."

"How long will your mission take?" Mills asked.

"Not more than three months," Picard said, "Although you might be able to meet us before our return to Federation space."

"Very well," Mills said, eager to score points with a respected captain, and fully understanding Picard's argument, "We'll take him as an observer. However, he won't get a free ride. I'll assign him to the department of his choice, and he'll be assisting the department head in whatever duties that officer sees fit."

Picard smiled, "Next thing you know he'll be manning a bridge station."

Mills couldn't help but grin at the reference to Wesley Crusher, Picard's star pupil on the Enterprise. Mills, Neal, and Gabriel had looked up to Wesley like a big brother, and all had harbored secret desires to be on the bridge like Wesley had been. "Speaking of manning stations, are the civilians aboard the Enterprise ready to transfer to the Slider?"

"Yes," Picard replied, "Commander Howard will be contacting your first officer shortly to handle all the arrangements."

"So," Justin began, handing Picard a corkscrew and indicating the wine, "Would you like to pick the bottle?"

"The Mondovi then," Picard said, opening the bottle, "I heard from Admiral Ross that you requested a doctor from the medical exchange program. Any particular reason?"

"I requested Doctor Tagaris directly," Mills replied, offering his glass for Picard to pour, "James Gabriel, the younger brother of my tactical officer, is training to enter Starfleet Academy in three years. He wants to be a doctor, and he reads more medical literature than I can even think of. Last year, Tagaris wrote a paper comparing Romulan and Vulcan physiology. James sent his brother the paper, and we both read it."

"What was her position?" Picard asked, sitting down after pouring the wine.

"It's somewhat obvious that she supports reunification. She found very few differences between the two races, as expected, but she also presented an interesting case for the reasons we don't see Romulans with telepathic abilities."

"What were her reasons?"

Mills took a sip of the wine before continuing. "Her argument was that the absence of the abilities was more mental than physical. The guarded political and economic climate, with the suspicion and treachery prevalent in Romulan society, combined with the lack of mental discipline that Vulcans practice, has contributed to their minds closing themselves off from each other."

"I would be interested in reading this paper for myself, and I'm sure that Doctor Crusher would like to see it as well."

Mills stood and walked to his desk, where he input a string of commands into the panel. "I just sent copies of it to both of you. Be sure to let me know what you think of it," Mills said, returning to his seat, "Have you found a new ops officer yet?"

Picard's face darkened at the question, but Mills could see that the elder captain was starting to get over the unfortunate loss of Data, his former android officer. "I can never replace Data, but I have a young Andorian officer who's doing a very good job of taking over the position. I do want to thank you for playing at his memorial service."

"I'm glad I could help out," Mills said, eyeing his trumpet case in the corner, "Data was a great officer, and enjoyed teaching and learning at the same time. I recall accompanying him and La Forge to the holodeck one afternoon to observe a Sherlock Holmes program for a school report. Not only did he act the part of Holmes well, but he guided me through the deductive process, and helped me to solve the mystery on my own. I think he enjoyed watching me figure it out as much as he enjoyed the program itself."

"I wouldn't doubt that for a minute," Picard said, leaning back with his glass of wine, "So, what do you think of starship command so far?"

Commander Aaron Steele stood on the transporter platform and tugged at the high collar of his uniform. He still wasn't used to the feel of the clothing, but figured that would be the least of the new things he's encounter aboard the Slider. After standing a moment, with Lieutenant Commander Jared Peron, Lieutenant Caleb Bryant, and Doctor Tagaris on the platform, the operator gave him a puzzled look. "Are you ready for transport, sir?" he asked.

Steele then realized that as the ranking person on the pad, giving the order was his responsibility. "Yes," he said, "Energize."

A moment later, he stood aboard the Slider. "Welcome aboard," a blond officer said, "I am Lieutenant Ryan Gabriel, head of security."

As the four departed the platform, Gabriel handed out a padd to each of them. "These contain your quarters assignments, as well as your duty schedules for tomorrow. I suggest you all hold department meetings to become acquainted with those working under you."

Steele extended a hand as he took the padd, "Glad to be here. Another twelve people are ready for transport."

Gabriel shook Steele's hand and smiled. "Nice to see you have things under control, commander. That will bring our crew compliment up to its full eighty-seven

Steele quickly went to his quarters, made sure his cargo container had been beamed into the room, and headed for the rear of the ship. While he was eager to unpack in what would be his home for the next couple years, he was even more eager to check out the shuttles that he was now responsible for. He was surprised at how small the ship was, far smaller than the gigantic cargo vessels he was used to escorting for his father's dilithium refining business. It took him less than two minutes to walk the entire length of the vessel. While he could have taken a turbolift, he wanted to get an idea of the size of the Slider as quickly as possible.

In the rear section of the vessel were six individual bays for the small shuttles. Steele couldn't help but smile when he opened the door into one of the bays. The shuttle was his own design, a modification of a civilian scout that took a crew of two. The hallmark of the shuttle, dubbed the Defender class by Steele's father, was its ability to provide combat support. Steele had taken out five Jem'Hadar attack ships over the course of the Dominion War while escorting his father's transports to take spare parts and dilithium to the front lines.

After checking the computer panel to be sure that all the shuttles were ready to fly when needed, he departed for the bridge to see his station. He wondered, as he walked, what his time aboard the Slider would bring.

Lieutenant Christopher Neal sat at the engineering station on the bridge of the Slider, running another computer diagnostic on the warp engines. Try as he might, he was unable to determine what had caused the timing error. "Excuse me," a voice behind the ship's pilot said, "I believe this is my console?"

Neal fought to restrain his annoyance at the blunt tone from behind him, but decided that patience was the better route. Fortunately, he had learned patience as he grew up on the Enterprise with devout Christian parents, who had done their best to drive a wedge between him and his friends. Standing, the pilot turned to see the speaker.

"Lieutenant Commander Peron?" Neal asked.

"Yes," the young man replied, brushing his longish blond hair out of his blue eyes, "I noticed on a scan from the Enterprise that there was a timing error with the warp drive shutdown."

"There was. I've run two computer diagnostics on the warp engines and haven't found the problem yet."

The civilian officer sat at the console and turned his back to Neal. The pilot noted that the civilian uniform had navy blue shoulders instead of the grey that was on the Starfleet officer's jacket. "You were looking in the wrong place," Peron said without turning his head away from the console, "A timing error would be a problem of the computer control system. You should have notified me as soon as you detected the problem."

Neal nodded, although the engineer couldn't see him. "Then I will let you handle the problem," the pilot said, ignoring the engineer's bluntness and turning to return to his console.

While the pilot had been busy with the engineering console, someone had taken the helm. Approaching, Neal saw that the new arrival wore a civilian uniform. She had shoulder length black hair, and obviously knew her way around the helm console. "Excuse me, I don't believe we've met," Neal said, approaching.

"Ensign Erin Smith, sir," she said, standing and coming to attention.

"At ease, before you sprain something," Neal said with a smile.

He now recalled her from the personnel files he'd studied of the vessel's other assigned pilots. "You're the one who flew the USS Solstice after the bridge was destroyed," Neal said, "Nice job. Just don't try to crash land this ship on a planet, the captain would be upset."

"Do you know him well?" she asked, blushing at the praise her superior had given.

"I grew up with him and Gabriel, the tactical officer, on the Enterprise," Neal replied, the indicated the helm, "Take a seat, you can continue getting familiar if you'd like."

"Thank you, sir," she said.

Turning to the rest of the bridge, Neal saw that Commander Steele had entered, and was using his small console on the left hand side of the captain's chair. Bryant sat at ops, working the board, and Gabriel manned his tactical console. Neal couldn't help but smile. For the first time, the Slider's bridge was filled with crew members trained on their consoles. "I'm picking up a distress call," Steele said to nobody in particular.

While Steele was the ranking officer on the bridge, Neal guessed that the communications officer wasn't yet comfortable taking over the ship. He slapped his commbadge as he indicated for Ensign Smith to vacate the helm position. "Captain to the bridge, we're receiving a distress call."

"On screen," Gabriel ordered, sensing Steele's hesitation.

As Neal sat down, the screen shifted from the side of the Enterprise to a battered, smoke-filled bridge. "This is Captain Andrew Davis of the USS Warhammer," said a man close to thirty in the captain's chair, "We request assistance from any starships in range. We are under attack and will not last long. Our coordinates are encoded with the message."

Before Neal could start to wonder why the man wore an antiquated red uniform, the transmission ended. Behind Neal, the doors swished open.

"Report!" Mills snapped, Captain Picard following close behind as he entered the bridge of the Slider.

"Distress call from what appeared to be a Federation vessel," Gabriel said, "A human was in command, and no translation was needed, but there is no USS Warhammer in the Starfleet registry, and the crew's uniforms were outdated by over a decade."

"I will return to the Enterprise," Picard said, "We should investigate this before parting ways."

"Agreed," Mills said, "We'll go at maximum warp as soon as you beam off."

"Picard to Enterprise," Picard said, slapping his commbadge, "Site-to-site transport. Bring me directly to the bridge."

While it was normal operating procedure to use both ships' transporters for ship to ship transport, the situation called for as much speed as possible. "Is the warp engine problem fixed?" Mills asked, taking his seat as Picard disappeared in the sparkle of transport.

"Yes," Peron replied from the engineering station.

"Mr. Neal, lay in an intercept course for the Warhammer and engage at maximum warp when ready."

The viewscreen flashed, and then showed the usual warp effect of stars passing by. At nearly forty percent above the maximum speed of the Enterprise, the Slider would arrive before the larger vessel. "Time to intercept?" Mills asked.

"Ten minutes, forty-eight seconds," Bryant replied.

"What about the Enterprise?"

"They will be four minutes, thirty seconds behind us," Bryant said, without manipulating a single control to make a calculation.

Mills pulled up Bryant's file on a small screen mounted to his chair. He remembered that the ops officer was a hybrid of Vulcan, Andorian, and human, but had been surprised with the visual result. While a full thirty years old, Bryant looked scarcely older than a human of fourteen. Decan Howard, the observer, looked older. Bryant had the stark white hair of an Andorian, the tanned look of his Israeli human ancestry, and slightly pointed ears. While not fully Vulcan, they were obviously more tipped than a human or Andorian would have. He possessed something approaching Vulcan strength, all of the Vulcan intellect, but none of the telepathic abilities.

He'd graduated from the Vulcan Science Academy only the previous year, and had been a shoe-in for the Slider position. Mills was impressed as he read the file, remembering the facts that had escaped his memory since he'd first been given his crew roster. "Red alert," Mills said.

Commander Walker, who'd just sat down in her seat to Mills' right, pressed the shipwide announcement control. "Red alert, red alert. This is not a drill, I repeat, this is not a drill," she said.

The klaxon sounded twice, then silenced. "Shields at full power, weapons online," Gabriel reported.

"Three minutes to intercept," Bryant said.

Mills then realized how long he'd been reading the file on the ops officer. "Engines will be ready for emergency maneuvering," Neal said.

"I have damage control teams on standby for all tactical and critical systems," Peron said.

Mills felt a slight rush of adrenaline. While they had been running drills the previous week, this was the first time he'd ever issued a red alert order and really meant it. He was surprised now nervous he felt, but guessed that even Picard had the same feelings when he first took a vessel under his command into battle. Mills leaned back in the captain's chair, attempting to relax before they arrived. "Put the vessel on screen as soon as possible," he ordered, "I need information now."

"I can't get a clear reading," Bryant said, "I'm getting severe sensor interference from the area, likely an electronic countermeasure to avoid detection."

"Steele, hail the Enterprise, they have a more sophisticated sensor system. They might be able to punch through it."

"No good," Steele replied, "The interference is jamming subspace channels."

"Can you break through it?"

"I broke through a lot of jamming signals during the war, but this one makes those look like child's play," Steele replied, "I'd be surprised if the Midas array could overcome it."

"We're approaching the Warhammer," Gabriel said.

As the Slider reverted to normal space, the viewscreen suddenly began flickering with static. "The sensor interference is growing stronger by the minute," Bryant said, "I don't think the Warhammer is producing it. The concentration is greater on the other side of them."

"Can you put the Warhammer on screen?" Mills asked.

"I can center the screen on them," Bryant replied, "No guarantee that you'll be able to see much."

The screen shifted to an oblong object, with glowing protrusions on what was probably the rear. "One moment," Bryant continued, "I'm tying in the optical grid and the subspace radar. Hopefully the image will clear up some."

As promised, the view sharpened to show the Warhammer more clearly. "The vessel is approximately four thousand meters long. I'm reading four separate warp engines. In fact, it almost looks like four separate ships put together. There's a strange thermal reading from the center, likely a fusion reactor, but it doesn't appear to be tied in to any of their main power grids."

"Steele, can you raise them?"

"No," Steele said, keeping his eyes on his board, "I might have a better chance of success if we get closer."

"You heard him Chris," Mills said, calling the pilot by his first name, "Bring us in as close as we can get."

As much as he tried to focus, learning that the Warhammer was ten times the size of the Slider was more than a little daunting. "That design isn't Starfleet," Peron said, "In fact, I don't recognize it at all."

"Steele, keep trying to raise them," Mills asked, truly puzzled about this strange vessel, "Gabriel, tactical analysis."

"I see at least twelve heavy phaser banks, and there are four torpedo tubes in view. Odds are, another four are on the other side. I'd say this is a heavy battleship."

"I have an idea," Steele said, still working his board, "If we get close and put a tractor beam on them, we can channel our communication signal through the beam."

"That could work," Bryant added, "Provided they don't think we're attacking them."

"Neal, take us in, nice and slow."

The gigantic ship grew larger on the screen as the Slider approached. Mills could begin to make out large hull breaches and severe damage to the warp nacelles. "Their warp drive is likely offline," Bryant reported, "I'm getting clearer sensor readings now. Only half of the phaser banks and two torpedo tubes are functioning. Lifesigns are sporadic, although many. They have at least ten thousand people aboard."

The screen glowed blue, and Mills could hear the tractor generators humming softly. "Tractor beam online, I'm getting a communication signal," Steele said.

"On screen," Mills ordered.

The Warhammer's bridge looked like hell, but Mills could see repair efforts underway. A couple engineers were replacing a screen while another worked the inside of a console. In the captain's chair sat a weary-looking man of about thirty. He wore a uniform that Mills recognized from logs of the launch of the Enterprise-B. On this captain, the outdated red coat was dirty and torn in a couple places. "This is Captain Justin Mills of the Federation Starship Slider. Do you require assistance?"

"I'm Andrew Davis, in command of the Alliance Starship Warhammer," the captain replied as he typed into his chair-mounted panel, "I'm sending you coordinates for some equipment that we have to get off. After you get it, take as much of my crew and you can and get out of here."

"Wait a minute," Mills said, "We can't start beaming people over until we know what's going on here."

"A very large and very powerful ship is coming our way. We scanned you coming in, you can outrun them. One of my crewmembers will explain everything once you're underway."

"We'll defend you," Mills said, "My ship isn't exactly weak, and we have another on the way."

"You won't stand a chance. I'm going to sacrifice my ship to take them out."

"Hold on!" Mills shouted, bolting from his chair.

"Sir," Gabriel interrupted, "They've used our tractor beam as a carrier for transporters. I'm reading two pieces of equipment in cargo bay two, along with about sixty people. Another wave is coming in now."

"Sound intruder alert," Mills said, "Arm all officers."

Mills then stepped forward, giving Davis a glare. "Explain yourself now," Mills said, "From my point of view, you are forcefully boarding my vessel."

Before Davis could reply, the Warhammer's bridge rocked and the screen filled with static. "They're here," Davis said, a bit of defeat in his eyes, "Get away, now!"

**Chapter 2**

The screen winked off, and the Slider lurched as the Warhammer pulled away. A tractor beam emerged from one of the Warhammer's emitters struck the center of the Slider's tractor beam. "Their tractor beam has cancelled out the effect of ours," Bryant said.

"Disengage the beam," Mills ordered, "Bring us around the Warhammer. I want a view of this hostile vessel."

The sight on the screen shifted as the Slider moved. A moment later, the other vessel came into sight. Bryant, without being asked, zoomed in on the target. "Is that the Enterprise?" Walker asked.

"Negative," Bryant said, "Although the hull design matches closely, this ship is significantly larger."

"How much larger?" Mills asked.

"The unknown vessel is seven thousand, eight hundred meters in length," Bryant replied.

Most of the crew on the bridge gasped, since the new arrival was close to twenty times the size of the Slider, and double the length of the Warhammer. Before Mills could think of a plan of action, the front of the large vessel flared, and twelve globes of light came out of the front. "Twelve quantum torpedoes fired at the Warhammer," Gabriel reported.

"Neal, take us in on a pass through those torpedoes," Mills ordered, "Gabriel, can you detonate them with the point defense phasers?"

The Slider, uniquely equipped for strike missions, held most of its armament in the front of the ship. The heavy phaser, four pulse phasers, and two torpedo tubes all faced forward. However, both the dorsal and ventral areas of the ship had a pair of weaker point defense phasers to fight off small ships and fighters. "Yes sir," Gabriel replied.

Mills knew the question was pointless, since Gabriel had been skilled with weapons since they were teenagers. "Take those torpedoes out. Neal, once that's done, put us between the two ships."

The Slider passed through the swarm of weapons, rocking as the weapons detonated in close proximity to the small vessel. "Minimal damage to shields," Gabriel reported, "All torpedoes detonated."

"The aggressor is hailing us," Steele said.

"On screen," Mills ordered, trying not to reveal the nervousness he felt.

He was at the brink of taking the Slider into battle, and he was more than a little scared at the prospect. "This is Admiral Okada of the IFS Hunter," the face that appeared on the screen said sharply, "You will power down your vessel and surrender to us."

Mills felt his mouth go dry at the ultimatum. He knew that he couldn't surrender his ship, but this enemy vessel likely had the firepower to blow the Slider out of the sky. "Who are you?" Mills asked, trying to stall Okada with basic questions.

"No questions now," Okada replied, "You will disarm, accept a boarding party, and escort us to your command center."

Mills studied the man on the screen. While his name was Japanese, Okada looked like he had mixed blood. His close cropped hair was a medium brown with flecks of gray, and his eyes were bright green, yet he still had the bone structure and skin tone of an Asian. The Slider's captain hadn't yet learned to read people as well as Picard could, but something about Okada's tone and posture felt like bluster. "We cannot surrender under those terms," Mills replied, "We don't even know where—"

"You have made a mistake," Okada interrupted.

The screen winked out, the communication cut off at Okada's end. "The Hunter is moving toward us," Bryant reported.

"The Enterprise is dropping out of warp," Steele said, "They report that they intercepted our last communication and are preparing to make an attack run down the Hunter's starboard side."

"Picard doesn't like to waste any time," Walker commented.

"Not when he knows that battle is the only option," Mills said, "Mr. Neal, Mr. Gabriel, bring us out from the Hunter's starboard side. When the Enterprise makes her pass, come about and target the shield facings that Picard hits. Bryant, keep the Hunter on the screen."

The Hunter appeared to turn as the Slider zoomed past and took a tight turn away from the large vessel. Mills brought up a tactical display on his armrest to be able to see all four ships represented at once. He could see that the Warhammer was turning to engage as well. "Status of the Warhammer?" Mills asked.

"Their forward shields are barely up, and the rest of the generators are offline. It looks like they only have half of their phaser capacity and two torpedo tubes online," Gabriel said, "They're in no shape to fight."

"Apparently, Mr. Gabriel, they disagree with you," Bryant said, "The Warhammer is accelerating."

The Slider came about to face the Hunter's starboard from a distance. On the main screen, Mills could see the Enterprise passing by the Hunter. A flurry of phaser blasts connected the two vessels. Mills saw the Hunter cut a nasty gash into the saucer of the Enterprise. "Bryant, damage report on those ships," Mills said.

"Hunter shows minor damage to shields," Bryant said, "Enterprise has lost starboard shields and has taken damage to the hull."

"Neal, take us in," Mills said, fighting to appear calm, "Gabriel, find a weak point and concentrate your fire on it."

"Their shields have already regenerated to full strength," Bryant said.

"What?" Mills said, bolting from his chair to look over Bryant's shoulder, "The Enterprise is the most powerful ship in the fleet, and they didn't make a dent?"

"I'm detecting a slight overall drop in shield strength," Bryant said, "I'd guess that they have the ability to transfer power from their other shield facings to compensate for damage."

The Hunter loomed large in the viewscreen as the Slider approached. "Fire when ready," Mills said, returning to his seat.

The screen flashed as the Slider unleashed its full armament against the mammoth starship. The heavy phaser, four pulse phasers, and torpedoes from both tubes slammed into the Hunter's shields as the small ship passed. "Damn," Gabriel muttered, "Nothing got through."

"Enterprise has come around again," Bryant said, "Warhammer and Hunter are trading shots as well."

"Neal, bring us around for another pass," Mills said.

Before the pilot could reply, the Slider rocked hard, tossing Mills and Walker out of their chairs. "Peron!" Mills shouted as he climbed back into his seat, "Damage report!"

"Rear shields down to fifty percent," Peron replied, "Minor damage to port nacelle, warp engine speed will suffer slightly."

The Slider pulled around for a second pass on the Hunter. Mills could see the Warhammer firing on the larger vessel, and neither ship seemed to be letting up. Then, then Warhammer stopped firing its phasers. "Report on the Warhammer," Mills said.

"Their forward shields are almost down, and they've just taken their weapons offline," Bryant said, "Power is being channeled into something in the center of the ship."

"I'm receiving a signal from the Warhammer," Steele said, "They're telling us to back off."

"I'm getting a massive fusion reaction in the center of the Warhammer," Bryant said, "The four sections of the ship are beginning to separate."

"Neal," Mills said as the Slider rocked from another phaser blast, "Break off attack run. Full impulse away from the Hunter."

"Enterprise is turning to follow," Gabriel said, "But they've taken heavy damage to their saucer. Their impulse drive is operating at less than half efficiency."

"Hunter has locked onto them with a tractor beam," Bryant said, "They're not able to break away."

"Target that tractor emitter," Mills said, "Prepare to take us in!"

"Too late!" Bryant shouted, "The Warhammer is firing something."

The view shifted to show the vessel, now with the four sections held apart by a series of girders. In the center sat a long cylindrical structure, which now began to glow at a port in the front. Then, an extremely bright beam shot out. "View to the Hunter," Mills said.

The large battleship was caught in a maelstrom of energy from the beam. Looking closely, Mills could see that the Hunter's shields were doing a good job of dispersing the beam, but countless tendrils of energy raked across the vessel's hull. "Where's the Enterprise?" Mills asked.

The screen shifted and zoomed to show the smaller ship, freed from the Hunter's tractor beam, caught in the edge of the beam. The energy tendrils sliced into the flagship's hull as the beam continued. Before Mills could issue an order, the Hunter shimmered and disappeared. The beam stopped, leaving the Enterprise tumbling in the center of the screen.

"Warhammer has lost life support in two sections and they're not rejoining like the other two," Bryant said, "Enterprise has lost main power and life support is fluctuating across all decks. They also lost their starboard nacelle."

"I can have a power transfer beam ready," Peron said, "But it's only enough for one ship."

"What about the Hunter?" Mills asked.

"I can't pick them up anywhere," Bryant said, "I'll keep an eye out."

"Which ship should we head for?" Neal asked.

Mills looked at the Enterprise tumbling on the screen. Then he thought of the Warhammer and all of its occupants. "I need ideas, now," Mills said, "I can't let these ships go down."

**Chapter 3**

"The Enterprise is a well-designed ship," Peron said, "It won't take much to get her stabilized. I can use the ship's runabout to power their life support until they get up and running."

"Do it," Mills said, glad to be relieved of the dilemma, "Take an engineering team with you. Steele, fly the runabout."

Mills moved to the engineering station as soon as Peron departed the bridge with the shuttle officer. "Neal, take us over to the Warhammer after that runabout launches. I'll have the power transfer beam ready to go."

"Runabout Kaveri, you are clear to launch," a young engineer's voice came through the communication system.

"Acknowledged," Steele replied, keying in the commands to activate the engines.

He took the runabout off through the open door, a little faster than the inertial dampers could compensate. "Try not to get us killed," Peron, who was sitting next to Steele, said.

"Don't worry," Steele said, "I've had dogfights in asteroid fields. I know what I'm doing."

"Just don't damage the Enterprise any more when we dock," Peron said, "Portside docking port by the way."

Steele guided the runabout across the short distance as the Slider pulled away to assist the Warhammer. "It's slightly damaged," Steele said as he saw the docking port.

"I can shore it up with forcefields," Peron said, "We'll run a power transfer cable through the door, so we can skip the umbilicals in the docking port."

Steele simply nodded, then maneuvered the runabout against the Enterprise. A moment later, the pilot heard the door behind him open. "Permission to come aboard," Peron said.

"Granted," replied an officer.

Steele got up and followed the Slider's engineer onto the Enterprise. The lights were flickering, the sound of life support systems was noticeably absent, and the corridor was littered with debris from blown out conduits. Still, there was a waiting access panel for Peron to plug the power transfer cable into. As soon as he did so, Steele felt the gravity return to normal, the lights came back up, and the sound of the air circulators filled the corridor. "Thanks," the junior engineer from the Enterprise said, "Now we can focus on getting our own systems online."

"Just make it fast," Peron replied, "The Enterprise draws power faster than the runabout can generate it. Our capacitors will be empty within two hours. After that, the runabout will barely provide enough power for air on one deck, let alone the entire ship."

"Understood," the engineer said, "Should we get you and your repair crew to engineering? Commander LaForge is coordinating the repair teams from there."

"Yes," Peron said, motioning for his engineering team to depart from the runabout, "Steele, go to the bridge and help them out up there."

Steele nodded, choosing to ignore the fact that the lower ranking engineer had issued him an order. The pilot headed down the corridor, looking for the nearest turbolift. He found a shaft quickly, and called the lift.

"Excuse me," an Enterprise ensign said, "The lifts are on priority use only."

"I need to get to the bridge," Steele replied, "I'm with the engineering team from the Slider."

"Input your rank and destination into the panel," the ensign said, "The lift might be awhile."

The ensign was certainly right about waiting. A full five minutes passed before the lift arrived. Even then, Steele swore it went to the bridge by way of engineering. Several officers got in and out in various stops, which reminded Steele of the common access lifts on busy starbases. Still, he eventually ended up on the bridge. "Commander Steele reporting," he said, stepping from the lift.

"Mr. Steele," Picard said, rising from the captain's chair, "Please take one of the auxiliary stations. You'll be responsible for coordinating movement of spare parts around the ship."

"Yes, sir," Steele said, taking his seat.

Settling in, he noticed Picard wandering around the bridge, looking over the shoulders of the various officers at work. "Can I help you with something?" Steele asked as Picard approached.

"Nothing in particular," Picard replied, "One of the worst aspects of command is waiting for my crew to do their jobs. I feel useless sometimes."

"Something tells me that everyone is about to be a whole lot busier," Steele said, imagining a fleet of ships like the Hunter, "It must be similar to when you first encountered the Borg."

"This enemy worries me more, to be honest," Picard said, "If that ship can appear anywhere inside Federation space, then there is no way to form a defensive line against them."

"Then how do we stay safe?" Steele asked, transporting a load of hull plates into position on the outside of the saucer section.

"We inform Starfleet, get our ships in the best condition we can, and prepare for a long hard fight."

Caleb Bryant drummed his fingers on his console. He'd tried meditating by watching the hypnotic energy transfer beam on the viewscreen, but the fiery Andorian and restless human parts of him prevented him from fully focusing on his inner self. As much as he tried to adhere to the Vulcan principles of logic and repression of dangerous emotion, he constantly found himself falling short of his expectations. As he'd watched the Warhammer on the screen for the past hour, he found himself feeling empathy for those aboard and sorrow for those who'd been lost in the battle. Also gnawing at him, however, was a deep-seated fear about what lay ahead as a result of this encounter.

"Mr. Bryant," Mills said, jerking the ops officer from his thoughts, "What is the Warhammer's status?"

"Their main power systems are still down, but they can self-sustain life support with the impulse generators they have online now," Bryant said, checking his board, "They're shunting the power we're giving them into an automated repair system. It looks like they'll have warp capability in another hour if we keep giving them power."

"What about the Enterprise?" Mills asked.

"Their warp drive is still down, but impulse, life support, and some of their phaser banks are up," Bryant said, "It looks like Picard is focusing on defense of his ship before getting her moving."

"With a nacelle missing, the Enterprise won't get past warp two without a stay in spacedock," Mills said, "He's going to get his ship ready to fight before he works on heading home."

"But would they hold up in a fight in their current condition?"

Mills shook his head. "Doubtful. The enemy vessel was too strong, and we're the only ship that can outrun them."

Bryant's stomach churned at the thought that the Slider would have to leave the Warhammer and Enterprise to be destroyed if the Hunter returned. However, Bryant knew full well that it would be their duty to retreat and inform Starfleet of the threat if the enemy starship came back.

"I know what you're thinking, Mr. Bryant," Mills said softly.

The captain had stepped up behind the ops console and was now speaking privately with the ops officer. "I will not abandon Enterprise and Warhammer until it is the last option available."

Peron stepped from the Kaveri as soon as the ship settled into its bay on the Slider. The four hours he'd spent on the Enterprise had been taxing, yet rewarding as well. Peron enjoyed the chance to work with Geordi La Forge, even if the Starfleet engineer lacked some of the latest information about warp theory and subspace dynamics. No sooner than Peron walked out of the docking bay, the Slider's engines whined in indication that the starship had jumped to warp. The engineer handed his toolkit to a junior officer and headed for the bridge at a brisk pace.

The Enterprise had been made warp-ready, but Peron was still out of touch as to the condition of the Warhammer.

"Report," Peron exclaimed as he stepped onto the bridge, "What's going on with the Warhammer?"

"Mr. Peron," Mills said, standing to address the engineer, "In Starfleet, captains ask for reports from officers, not the other way around."

Peron felt a small sting. While Mills was right, the engineer was still entitled to information about the technical situation. Without a word, Peron took his station on the bridge and began checking the Warhammer's status. The large vessel only had one warp core online, and was moving under escort from the Slider and Enterprise. "What's the status of the Enterprise?" Mills asked.

"With their starboard nacelle gone, they can only make warp three," Peron replied, "We were able to restore partial shields and half of their phaser arrays. La Forge and I agree that the Enterprise should put into a repair dock as soon as possible."

"We're headed for Earth," Mills said, "Picard, Davis, and I are meeting later to discuss the situation and prepare a report for Starfleet. I want you to help the Warhammer's engineering team set up some equipment on our ship."

"What kind of equipment?" Peron asked.

"They have a device that they say we should get running," Mills said, "It takes two warp cores to power it, so I told them to set it up in the main engineering control room."

"Thanks for checking with me," Peron said, filling his voice with obvious sarcasm.

"It's my ship," Mills said, "Just make sure you know what they're setting up and prepare a report to get me up to speed with what we need to do to help them."

**Chapter 4**

_Captain's Log, supplemental. Due to the extreme damage the Enterprise suffered in the recent battle, the Slider has escorted both the Enterprise and Warhammer to Earth for repairs and crew debriefings. Captains Picard, Davis, and I are meeting with Admirals Ross, Paris, and Janeway to discuss the new threat. While I know that Starfleet will stand ready for whatever we must do, another war will test the Federation's limits. I pray that we can avoid open armed conflict._

"How many universes does Okada control?" Janeway asked, directing her question at Davis.

"We don't exactly know," Davis said, "The best intelligence we've got is the rate he brings new ships in. Assuming he builds ships as fast as we do, I'd guess about ten versions of the Federation are under his control, although it could be only two or three universes if he controls the whole galaxy."

Mills observed reactions around the Slider's briefing room table. All three admirals were shocked at the prospected of facing so much power, but quickly resumed their line of questioning.

"What is device that you are having the Slider's engineering team work on?" Ross asked.

"That is the quantum wave drive," Davis replied, "We took it from one of Okada's scout vessels, a ship fairly similar to your Enterprise. It's what allows Okada to go from universe to universe."

"How does it work?" Janeway asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Davis said, "It took our engineering team two days just to install the device. The data we were able to steal gave instructions for that, but included no details as to its operation. Our guess is that Okada does not want his people to know the secret of the technology to prevent them from making their own bids for power."

"What else can you tell us about Okada and his version of Starfleet?" Ross asked.

"Not much," Davis said, "They came six months ago, and we've been fighting a losing battle ever since. We've determined that their ships are mostly automated. The Hunter has only a thousand crew, and most of their cruisers have a hundred or less. They are slow to repair, but it makes sense if they come from a society where very few can be trusted."

"How did you fight them if they could insert their ships anywhere they wanted?" Janeway asked.

"We built seven ships like the Warhammer to carry all we could of the Federation. It was our hope that we'd be able to fight well enough with these ships, but the Warhammer is the last one left. Our universe is done for, we're all that remains."

Mills and Picard had already spoken with Davis about this, but the admirals' faces betrayed their sympathy. "However," Picard said, hoping to turn the room's mood around, "Engineers La Forge and Peron have worked with the Warhammer's engineering team. We believe that we can create devices that will prevent Okada's vessels from transferring in. A prototype is in the Enterprise's main shuttlebay, and we're ready to deploy it in close orbit around the sun. The Slider will then try to use its drive to transfer into the system."

"If the device works, then we will be unable to return with the drive," Mills continued, "Which means that Okada won't be able to come in either."

"Get to it," Janeway said, "We have no time to waste here. The Enterprise and Warhammer will be given top repair priority. Captain Mills, what is your ship's status?"

"We were virtually undamaged in the battle," Mills replied, "We have made necessary repairs and will depart for the trial as soon as you return to the starbase."

"I will have a new crew assembled for the Slider by the time the trial is over," Ross said, "We need to use this ship to take the inhibitor technology to non-Federation races around the galaxy."

"With all due respect, Admiral," Mills began, forcing himself to remain calm and seated, "My crew and I are willing to take on that mission."

"The Slider experiment was never intended to see much action," Ross replied, "And I don't think you can handle it. You're too young and inexperienced. Consider it an order that you will turn over command of your vessel after the trial run. This meeting is over, get that drive online and test the inhibitor."

The Slider flew at warp 5 toward Alpha Centauri, where they would initiate the drive test from. Mills sat in the captain's chair, doing his best to calmly handle the situation. He knew that his crew could prove themselves, but Starfleet seemed unwilling to even give them a chance. "Captain," Neal said, "We're pulling into the system."

"Bring us to impulse," Mills ordered, "Peron, what's the drive's status?"

"I can't vouch for the drive itself, but it is connected and powered up," Peron replied.

"Steele, hail the Enterprise. Inform them that we're ready to test."

The commander operated his board and spoke after a few moments. "They report that the inhibitor is online, we're ready to go."

"Neal, set coordinates for Earth orbit. Peron, engage when ready."

Mills could hear the quantum wave drive hum to life through the frame of the ship around him. The viewscreen showed space distorting, and for a brief moment he could make out Earth, but then it disappeared. With a sudden jolt, the ship suddenly reverted to normal space. Neal's console overloaded, showering the pilot in glass and sparks. Neal fell out of his seat and collapsed unconscious to the floor. "Bryant, report," Mills said as Steele worked his console, hopefully signaling for a medical team.

"We're exactly three light-years from the Sol system. From what I can tell, the inhibitor field is spherical with a radius of three light-years," Bryant said, "The field overloaded the capacitors connected to the drive, so it will be offline until we get those replaced."

"How long?" Mills asked.

"Two hours," Peron replied, "We can pickup spares from the shipyards at Mars in case this happens again."

"What will happen if they try to transfer in from another universe?" Mills asked.

"They'll stay where they are," Bryant replied, "And likely suffer even more damage due to increased power in the drive."

Doctor Tagaris burst onto the bridge with the observer Decan Howard in tow. The doctor did not have a stretcher, but rather a portable medkit. "What's his condition?" Mills asked.

"Minor burns and lacerations, mild concussion, and torn muscles in his hands," Tagaris replied, "I can get his cuts and burns healed with a dermal regenerator, but I'll need him for a couple hours in sickbay to heal his muscles and concussion."

"Do what you think is best," Mills replied.

As soon as Tagaris began repairing the cuts and burns on Neal's face, alarms on several bridge consoles sounded. "What now?" Mills asked.

"I'm picking up two quantum wave signatures. It looks like two starships are shifting in," Bryant said.

"Bearing and distance?"

"Directly behind, one kilometer," Bryant replied.

"Walker, put helm on your console. Gabriel, red alert."

"Shields up, bring weapons to standby!" Walker said with urgency as she configured her control panel to pilot the ship.

"Doctor, get Neal to sickbay and have him on his feet as soon as possible," Mills said, "Walker, ahead full impulse. Screen to aft view."

On the viewer, Mills watched the Hunter shift in with a vessel almost doubling the Hunter in size. The design was the traditional Starfleet format with a saucer, engineering hull, and two warp nacelles, but the proportions were staggering. "The Hunter still shows damage," Bryant said before Mills prompted him, "But I'm reading another power core with a chronoton signature. The other ship is undamaged, sixteen kilometers long, and has about eighty life forms on it. I cannot exactly determine its weapon power, but I can confidently say that we're no match for it."

"Walker, take us to Earth, maximum warp."

"Aye," she replied, tapping commands into the console, "We will be there in one hour."

"Nice to know we're setting speed records," Steele added.

"If we go flank speed for an hour, we will damage our engines," Peron said with annoyance in his voice, "We should reduce speed to within safety limits."

Mills didn't want to begin an argument with the engineer, so he simply began issuing orders to his crew. "Steele, begin sending messages to every Federation world and starbase you can reach. Send designs and instructions for the inhibitors, and let the worlds know that it is top priority to get them online. Bryant and Gabriel, work to find a weakness for this new battleship. They have a small crew, to start by looking for ways to land teams on board for sabotage or to take control of the ship. Peron, have your team get the quantum drive back online, repair any damage, and get damage control crews ready. In one hour, we will likely be engaging the enemy."

The bridge crew visibly stiffened at Mills' final comment. None of them liked the idea of facing an enemy that could strike at the heart of the Federation. Mills just hoped that they'd be able to turn these ships back from Earth before they caused too much damage.

"Open a channel to Starfleet Command," Mills said gravely, "I have a report to deliver."

Neal opened his eyes slowly, trying to ignore the stabbing pain that the light caused. "I apologize for the pain," Doctor Tagaris said, turning toward the bed where Neal lay.

He hadn't been in the Slider's sickbay yet, and was rather impressed. With a crew compliment close to that of an Intrepid class starship, the sickbay was half again larger, with considerably more space for patients to be treated. Doctor Tagaris was flanked by an ensign who was likely a nurse and the observer Decan Howard. "I can't feel my hands," Neal said, flexing his fingers.

"I managed to repair the muscle, and the nerve will heal over the next week. I am sorry that I could not have done a more thorough job, but the captain needs you on the bridge," Tagaris said, "I suggest you report there."

Neal nodded and stood. After steadying himself for a moment, the pilot carefully walked toward the door. "Neal to Gabriel," he said, slapping his badge, "What is your location?"

"In our quarters," the tactical officer replied, "I am working with Bryant on the design of the enemy vessels. Meet us here if you can, we would like to ask you some questions."

The pilot practically jogged to the quarters he shared with the Slider's tactical officer. "What's up?" he asked upon entering the room.

"The inhibitor works," Gabriel said, indicating a chair for Neal to sit in, "But two enemy vessels transferred in right after our test. The damaged Hunter has a new power core, and a much larger companion. Bryant and I think we've found a way to fight this larger ship. It only has a crew of eighty, so we want to land Starfleet marines on board to take it over. Do you think the Slider's fighters could get inside their shields to beam troops on board?"

"Possibly," Neal replied, taking the offered seat, "If the pilots were good, the formation was tight, and there were a few starships keeping the enemy ship busy."

"The Enterprise and Warhammer are going to engage the Hunter, and are currently rushing to get as many combat systems online as fast as possible. The museum ships Voyager, Sojourner, and the cadet training vessel New Orleans are being readied to help us engage the Hunter's companion," Gabriel said.

"How long?" Neal asked.

"Twenty minutes until we arrive," Bryant replied, "The enemy battleships will pass Pluto's orbit in three hours. We plan to engage them at the asteroid belt, where the mounted phaser cannons and torpedo turrets can lend fire support."

"Seems like a good plan," Neal said, "With one problem. The Slider's fighters carry a crew of two with no passengers. There's no way to carry marines, and a runabout won't stand a chance of getting close enough."

"Bryant wants to replace one of the crew member spaces with a transporter buffer," Gabriel said, "He believes that we can store twenty marines in each buffer, and then rematerialize them on the enemy battleship. The problem is that the buffers will only hold the patterns for five minutes before they begin to degrade."

"Then we'll need damn good pilots," Neal said, "And we can split the shuttles into two flights of three. Steele will lead one, and I will lead the other."

"Then who will fly the Slider?" Gabriel asked, clearly apprehensive about Neal taking a shuttle into battle.

"Smith can handle it," Neal said, "The Slider will merely be a distraction, the fighters are the priority."

Gabriel opened his mouth to object, but quickly closed it again. "Don't worry," Neal said, placing a reassuring hand on the tactical officer's shoulder, "I'll be fine. Besides, if I can't get those shuttles through, we don't have much else that can stop them."

"Let's just hope that the museum ships are up to the task," Bryant said, "They're pulling starbase officers and skilled civilians for the crews of the museum ships, and the cadets currently onboard the New Orleans are preparing to take it into battle."

"No Starfleet officers or ships in-system to aid us," Neal said, "God help us all."

**Chapter 5**

James Gabriel rushed into the Sojourner's sickbay. "Civilian medic James Gabriel reporting for duty," he said to the lieutenant coordinating the room.

"Nice to have you aboard, kid," the officer replied, running a nervous hand through her short blond hair, "Grab a medkit and report to the bridge, that's your station. You will handle any bridge officers who sustain injury."

"Yes ma'am," James replied, grabbing a medical kit and departing.

"Bridge," he said after stepping into the nearest turbolift.

Nothing happened, and it took James a moment to remember that he had to hold one of the lift's handles to activate the voice recognition system. He'd only been aboard a constitution class starship once before, and it was a quick tour led by a very bored Starfleet officer. Still, James admired the ship's simplistic design.

The lift discharged the sixteen year-old medic onto a bridge whose design matched that of the most famed bridge in Starfleet history. For a brief moment, he expected to see James Kirk sitting in the captain's chair. It might have been the young age of the ship's commanding officer that completed the momentary illusion. A mere lieutenant commander sat in the center seat, looking barely older than James' brother Ryan.

"You the medic?" the commanding officer said, then responded to James' quick nod, "Take the auxiliary science console. You'll be monitoring passive sensors systems until your medical services are needed. The computer will run a short program instructing you on how to use the console. I am Lieutenant Commander Johann Krieger, but you will address me as Captain Krieger."

"What happens when someone gets injured?" James asked.

"You get them on their feet as quickly as possible," Krieger replied, "Heal their critical wounds and then give them a stimulant so that they can get back to their station."

James simply nodded, knowing that the conditions of the battle made short term performance worth the risk of long term damage. "Slider to Sojourner," a voice sounded on the bridge, "If you're ready, we could use you in formation now."

"Helm, take us out," Krieger said.

James watched in silence as the screen showed the starbase doors opening and the ship sailed into space. "Warp engines ready for short range jump," the navigator said.

"Engage when ready," Krieger said.

The stars streaked for a couple minutes, then reverted back to normal space to reveal the Slider, the New Orleans, and Voyager. "Sojourner to Slider," Krieger announced, "We have arrived and are under your command."

"Understood," Mills replied, "Begin final tactical preparations and stand by for further instructions. Come to red alert in one hour."

"The Enterprise has also dropped out of warp," Bryant reported, "They're signaling that they are ready to transfer the marines."

"Initiate transport," Mills said, "Have them report to the fighter bays and stand by until we're ready to deploy them. Walker, I'll be relying on you to handle communications during the battle. Bryant, you'll be watching the overall tactical situation, which means that Gabriel will have to take over the responsibility of our ship's status."

"What about Peron?" Gabriel asked.

"He will be in engineering," Mills said, "Coordinating damage control and power management from there. Ensign Smith will be piloting the Slider, as Neal is going to be flying a fighter."

"The marines have beamed over," Bryant said, "We have ninety minutes until the Hunter breaches the system."

"What is the status of the Warhammer?" Mills asked.

"They are launching from spacedock now," Bryant replied, "They have two of their four sections online, are operating with a skeleton crew, and have thirty percent of their weapon capacity."

"What about the Enterprise?" Mills asked.

"Their shields are at fifty percent, and they have full phasers and torpedoes. LaForge is good," Bryant said, then spoke again after his panel beeped, "Enemy ships have hit the defense perimeter at Pluto."

Okada felt the Hunter shake at the blasts from the automated phaser turrets. The beams and torpedoes were slamming into the shields, but the Hunter's phasers were cutting the defense guns to ribbons quick enough to prevent any major difficulties. "What is the status of the Righteous?" Okada asked, referring to the battleship accompanying the Hunter

"They are undamaged," the tactical officer reported, "We have now passed through the defense perimeter."

"What are the installations in this system?" Okada asked.

"A large station is in orbit around Jupiter, but seems to be evacuated," the ops officer said, "Some other small stations orbit the other gas giants, but are equally deserted. Most of the installations are in orbits around Earth and Mars, but we will have no difficulty neutralizing them. However, our challenge awaits us at the asteroid belt. I am reading the Warhammer and five other starships."

"Tactical analysis," Okada ordered.

"The Warhammer is still damaged, as is the larger vessel that defended them. The smaller one is undamaged, and should be watched carefully. The other three are showing smaller power curves, so they shouldn't be much trouble. The small one, however, we will have to watch."

"Order the Righteous to make that ship its primary target. We'll go for the Warhammer," Okada ordered, "Once they're out of the way, we will move on Earth. Have the rest of the battle groups begin their operations as well."

"Aye sir," the ops officer and first officer said simultaneously.

"Hunter is dropping from warp, as is the other vessel," Bryant reported.

"Warhammer has a positive ID on the other ship. It is the IFS Righteous, a heavy battleship under Okada's command," Walker said.

"Smith, bring us in on a pass," Mills said, "Walker, have Voyager follow."

The small starship shot through space, unloading its weapons into the battleship's shields. The Righteous returned fire, but was unable to score a hit on the weaving Slider. Voyager, however, was not so lucky. Two hits rocked the vessel, causing it to break off the pass halfway down the length of the Righteous.

"Damage report!" Paris shouted.

Tom Paris, filling two roles as captain and pilot, kept Voyager on a tight loop in preparation to come over the Righteous' dorsal side as the Slider finished its pass.

"Ventral shields down to fifty percent," cadet Karth, the Klingon ops officer, reported, "Minor damage to ventral phaser banks."

"Reroute power from dorsal shields," Paris ordered, "I want the shields kept even for maneuvers."

The bridge of the Sojourner rattled as a pair of photon torpedoes from the Righteous hit home on the old ship's shields. "New Orleans is beginning their attack," James reported, watching the cadet vessel begin unloading torpedoes at an incredible rate from the three gigantic launchers mounted on the exterior of the ship.

"Tactical, find the target points of those torpedoes and soften the shields with phaser blasts," Krieger ordered, "Helm, full impulse ahead. Bring us on a pass along their starboard side. I want to hit them the same place the Slider did."

"Report on the Righteous," Mills said as the Slider came around for its second pass on the starboard side of the battleship.

"We're wearing their starboard shields down, but that's about it," Bryant reported, "No damage to the ship's systems."

"Well, I wouldn't mind getting that ship intact," Mills said, "Get the shuttles away and commence capture operation. Have our task force begin distributing damage along shield facings. We want that ship intact, but we don't want them to know what we're doing until we get the troops on."

Neal flew the fighter out the Slider's bay, swiftly orienting himself to being out in space. "Slider flight bravo, form up on me," Neal said, telling the two other fighters assigned to him to follow his lead.

Turning the small fighter around, Neal could see the Righteous through the forward window. The Sojourner was passing down the starboard side, trading phaser blasts and not faring well in the exchange. "Let's go," Neal said, punching the impulse engines to full speed.

The group of three Slider fighters shot toward the enemy battleship, each carrying precious troops within its transporter buffer. Behind flew Steele's group, following Neal's fighters at the same alarming velocity. "Stay tight," Steele's voice resonated, "We don't want to give them a nice big target profile."

"Bravo flight with me," Neal said, moving away from Steele's ship, "We can't afford to lose all the fighters to one torpedo."

"Agreed," Steele said, "Good luck."

Through the forward viewport, Neal watched the Righteous close with the New Orleans, which was spitting torpedo after torpedo at the giant battleship. "New Orleans, break off and make a pass down the Righteous," Mills' voice sounded through the communication system, "You can't take them head on."

The aging cruiser began moving forward, and opened fire with phasers on the Righteous. Some of the beams managed to cut through the damaged shields, but Neal couldn't see any major damage caused. The return barrage, however, was more effective. Red beams lanced out from the Righteous, followed by torpedoes that slammed into the hull of the New Orleans. The cruiser bucked and began rolling away. Unfortunately, the maneuver only managed to expose the underside of the starship to the furious attack. "Commence transport as soon as possible," Neal ordered his flight, "Then we will move to assist the New Orleans."

The Sojourner came about to make another pass along the Righteous. "New Orleans is showing heavy damage," James said, shocked at the ferocity of the battleship's attack, "Main power is down and they're trying to move away on impulse. It doesn't look like they'll make it."

"Helm, take us down the dorsal side of the Righteous," Krieger said, "Keep our good shields toward them. Weapons are go to fire at will. What is the status of the Righteous?"

"Minor damage to ventral sections of the saucer, their forward shields are minimal," the science officer reported as the bridge rattled, "We're not having much effect."

"We don't need to," Krieger said, "We just need to distract them from the fighters."

James gripped his console tightly as the Sojourner rattled from another set of phaser blasts. The weapons console exploded in a shower of sparks, sending the officer flying back. James leapt into action, using a dermal regenerator to begin treating the man's burnt hands. Although he'd only practiced on holograms, James managed to keep his cool until the engineer's words interrupted his concentration. "They hit the mains! Weapons and shields are offline, warp drive is shot. I can give you impulse and secondary defense screens."

"Get us out of here!" Krieger shouted.

"What about the New Orleans?" James asked.

"They'll have to get out themselves," Krieger said, giving James a hard look, "Heal that man and report to sickbay to treat wounded."

Before James could reply, the Sojourner rattled again and James hit his head on something.

Mills watched in horror as the saucer section of the Sojourner was severed from the drive section. "Move us in, now," he ordered, "Have transporters lock on to any survivors and get them onboard. After we get them off, move us in to the New Orleans and lock tractors. We're going to get them out of this battle."

"Neal's group has just beamed their troops on," Walker reported, "They're moving to assist the Enterprise."

"Have Steele's group do the same once they transport," Mills said.

The captain fought to keep his seat as Ensign Smith pushed the Slider to its limits, taxing the inertial dampers. Mills was proud of the pilot, as the Righteous had yet to score a solid hit on the Slider. Unfortunately, the Slider's weapons weren't up to the task of the battleship's high-power shielding. "We're within range of the Sojourner's saucer," Bryant said, "No survivors on the engine section, but I have twenty lifesigns on decks one and two."

"Beam them to sickbay and inform Doctor Tagaris to prepare for wounded," Mills said, "How many were on that ship?"

"It was crewed with two hundred people," Walker said softly.

The bridge was silent for a moment, before Bryant spoke up. "We have them aboard," he said, "New status of the New Orleans, they are breaking up. The Righteous is turning to bear on Voyager."

"I need more power for the engines!" Paris shouted as Voyager bucked from another phaser blast.

"Negative," the engineer replied, "Fusion generators just went offline."

A trio of torpedoes slammed into the underside of Voyager's saucer, throwing almost everyone on the bridge to the ground. If Paris hadn't been so used to grabbing the piloting console, he'd have been thrown back as well. "We just lost the forward thirty meters of the ship," the engineer said, "All drive systems are offline."

"Dump life support into maneuvering thrusters," Paris said, "We're ramming this ship down their throats!"

"I have two torpedoes loaded and ready to fire," the tactical officer said, "They're the last shots we'll get."

"Fire," Paris shouted, "Then dump launcher power into the structural integrity field."

On the Slider's screen, what was left of Voyager spat two torpedoes at the Righteous. They succeeded only in splashing against the battleship's shields. Voyager accelerated toward the Righteous, but was cut down by a phaser barrage. "Fighter and capture team status," Mills said, doing his best to remain all business.

"The fighters are in formation with the Enterprise, lending their firepower," Walker said, "Capture teams report that they should have the ship within the minute. They've eliminated most of the ship's crew."

"Eliminated?" Mills asked.

"Apparently the enemy crew is outfitted with personal forcefield generators," Walker said, "It takes a kill setting to break through."

Mills nodded. "Engage warp drive for short range burst," he ordered, "We're going to assist the Enterprise and hope the Righteous doesn't come about fast enough to enter the fight before they capture her."

"Their shields are failing," LaForge said, "I've got a fix on their power core."

"Tactical, target it," Picard ordered, "And feed the coordinates to the Warhammer and the Slider's fighters. Can you tell me anything about it?"

"It's chronoton based, highly efficient but unstable," LaForge said, "We should be able to destabilize it with enough damage to that section."

"Helm, lateral roll to starboard," Picard said, "Engage ventral thrusters. Roll us under them. LaForge, what will the detonation be like?"

"Unknown," the engineer replied, "But we should stay clear."

Picard watched the stars twist on the screen as the Enterprise initiated its roll. In the distance, he could make out Earth and the moon. While the Righteous had stopped to engage the starships, the Hunter had made a direct course for Earth. The automated weapons in the asteroid belt had caused considerable damage, but the Hunter seemed to shrug it off. However, Okada's straight course made the Hunter an easy target, and the Enterprise was maneuverable enough to twist around the larger starship and pepper it with phaser blasts. "Report from the Warhammer," the tactical officer said, "Their forward hull section has taken heavy damage. They're breaking off their attack and moving to help pick up escape pods from the New Orleans and Voyager."

The Slider dropped back into normal space behind the Hunter. The Enterprise and Slider's fighters were targeting and hitting a point at the bottom of the enemy's engine section. "Gabriel, target those same coordinates and prepare to fire," Mills said, "Smith, get us under them and line up for a shot with the assault phaser."

The powerful weapon mounted in the front third of the Slider had twice the power of one of the Enterprise's phaser banks, but required the ship to line directly up on its target to fire. Mills hadn't risked ordering the weapon fired on the Righteous, as the battleship could have destroyed the Slider with only a few hits, but the Hunter was damaged enough to detract from its weapons ability. "Locked on," Gabriel said, "Firing in three seconds."

Mills sat patiently and watched the red beam slice into the Hunter's engine section. "Direct hit on their power core housing," Gabriel said, "They're returning fire."

"Evasive—" Mills began.

He was cut short by the shot from the Hunter, which rattled the Slider. "Glancing hit," Gabriel said, "We were in the middle of evasive maneuvers. However, even the slight hit took our dorsal shields offline."

"Good to know," Mills said, "Smith, keep up the good work. Another hit on the dorsal side will finish us so try to keep our underside facing them."

"Aye, sir," Smith replied.

"Their power core is beginning to overload," LaForge said, "They're ejecting it, but they don't have the impulse power to pull away."

"Helm, full impulse," Picard ordered, "They might get caught, but we want to be clear."

Suddenly, the Enterprise shook violently. "They've locked a tractor beam on us," LaForge said, "We can't move away."

"Phasers, lock on and fire!"

"No dice, weapons are down," LaForge replied.

On the screen, Picard watched the Slider open fire, narrowly missing the tractor emitter. However, instead of breaking off after firing, the small ship flew directly into the beam.

"All shields down, the beam has us," Gabriel said.

"Good idea, bad result," Mills muttered, "Full impulse, target that tractor emitter."

"Can't," Gabriel said, "That beam is overloading our systems."

"The Enterprise is breaking off," Bryant said, "Steele's fighters are coming in to dock, Neal's group is headed for the emitter."

"Those fighters can't take the shockwave, have them all dock. They'll be safe inside the Slider," Mills ordered.

"Five of the fighters acknowledge," Walker said, "Neal isn't responding."

"His fighter is locking a tractor beam on the power core," Bryant said, "He's towing it away."

"Mills to Neal," the captain said, hailing the fighter with his armrest controls, "Chris, get back here with that fighter. Don't be a hero!"

"Negative," Neal replied, "I can't let this core take you and the Enterprise out."

Janeway observed the battle from the station operations center of Earth spacedock. The Hunter looked almost disabled, but held the Slider in a tractor beam. Fortunately, the Righteous was now under Starfleet control and moving to assist the two other starships. "New report from the Righteous," the station commander said, "The core is ten seconds from overload. Projected damage shows Slider, Enterprise, and Hunter within its blast radius."

Helpless to affect the outcome, Janeway watched in horror as the Hunter's power core exploded. The shockwave overloaded the station's sensors, which the viewscreen showed as a few seconds of static. After the view cleared, Janeway saw only empty space. "Confirm with Righteous," Janeway said, her voice cracking, "Slider and Enterprise destroyed with enemy vessel Hunter."

"Righteous shows nothing on any sensors," the commander replied, "No debris, no residual energy readings. It's as if those ships were never there. The Warhammer is holding station at the asteroid belt, but they're too damaged to fight if another ship shows up."

"Sir!" one of the communication officers exclaimed, "With the Hunter gone, we're getting reports from other Federation systems. They must have been jamming."

"What do they say?" Janeway asked, moving to stand beside the young man.

The young man turned white at the reports on his screen, but then found the strength to speak. "Betazed has been attacked and is burning, no life at all left. The Titan was damaged defending the system, and was forced to warp out. Vulcan managed to run an enemy ship off, but they lost twelve of their fifteen defense ships. Deep Space Nine is holding, but they report that four Bajoran defense vessels and the USS Jupiter were lost. The Andorian Imperial Guard is currently engaged with one of the ships, but the battle isn't going well…"

"Stop," Janeway said, "What is the status of El Nanth?"

"They had adequate defenses to destroy the enemy starship," the officer said.

"Inform the Federation government that I recommend moving the capitol to the El Nanth system," Janeway said, "Have every transport and vessel capable of warp five or greater prepare for departure. I am going to take command of the Righteous and command the convoy. Tell the Warhammer to begin focusing their repair efforts on the warp drive. We depart in four hours."

"Sir," the station commander said, following Janeway into the turbolift, "You want us to abandon Earth?"

"Earth is not the Federation. We will evacuate as many people as possible and make the two month trip. The government will survive, and the Federation will survive," Janeway said, "We have a long fight ahead."

**Epilogue**

Neal fought the shaking fighter as it plummeted into Earth's atmosphere. "Neal to Slider," he said for the sixth time, "Neal to Enterprise. Neal to anyone!"

"Shields offline," the computer reminded with a helpful tone, "Main power down."

"Computer, dump all emergency power into transporter and put me on the surface," the pilot said, pulling a phaser and tricorder from the storage locker as he didn't know if the Hunter had managed to land troops on Earth.

"Inertial compensators damaged. Safe transport not possible."

"Override safety protocols and energize," he said, hoping that he wouldn't materialize at mach five.

The landing wasn't nearly as rough as the pilot had feared, but he would have liked to land on something softer than hard concrete. The night air was cold and Neal's uniform wasn't really up to the task of the weather. "Hey buddy," a voice said as the pilot picked himself up from the street, "Are you ok?"

"Neal to Starfleet," the pilot said, tapping his commbadge as he dusted himself off, "Does anyone read me?"

"You been drinking?" a young man asked, approaching, "It looks like your phone is on your belt, not your shirt."

Neal regarded the young man. His dress was rather unusual, and his hairstyle didn't seem right for the age. The boy couldn't have been more than a couple years Neal's junior, but his clothing didn't seem in fashion. Looking around, Neal noticed that the street was lined with primitive internal combustion vehicles, and the moon in the sky was completely clear of the cities that Neal was accustomed to seeing. "Not drinking," Neal said, pulling out his tricorder and starting a scan of the stars' positions to determine the time period, "But I have had a very stressful day."

"I know the feeling," the young man said, extending a hand, "Marco del Rossi."

"Christopher Neal," the pilot replied, shaking the offered hand.

The tricorder informed the pilot that he had been thrown back almost 400 years into the past, and currently stood in Toronto, Canada. "You look like someone dropped you off in a hurry," Marco said, "You didn't even have time to put on decent clothes."

"Be careful who you anger," Neal replied, "You never know where you'll end up."

"Come stay with me," Marco replied, "At least until you get a job and can find your own place."

"Thanks," Neal said, glad to have a place other than the street to look forward to.

"What do you do?" Marco asked, motioning for Neal to walk alongside.

"I'm a pilot," Neal replied instinctively.

"Really? What do you fly?" Marco said.

Neal couldn't think of any period aircraft or spacecraft he knew enough about, so he hoped that the truth would lead to a plausible answer. "Starships," he said, "Occasionally shuttles. They are simulations of course."

"Oh," Marco said, a knowing look crossing his face, "So you're a game tester. Well, I don't know how many software companies are around here, but you'll have no trouble finding a job if you're good with computers."

_Well,_ Neal thought, _I may be stuck in the past, but at least I found a helpful friend_.

"One warning," Marco said, "I have a couple roommates, so you'll be on the couch."

Neal looked up at the stars and wondered how long he'd be stuck in this time period, and what the fate of the Federation was after the battle. Unfortunately, he had a feeling that he wasn't going to learn those answers without a little patience.


End file.
